


‘cause i just need a quiet place where i can scream i love you

by orphan_account



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Drunken Flirting, Feelings Realization, M/M, Metaphors, Post-Time Skip, Slight Slow Build, barely, i have school in four hours, not very metaphor heavy though, t for cursing, very different writing style i dont know what took over me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:02:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26577247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Sakusas not the moon, nor is he the sun, he’s not even as significant as a single star in the sky. He’s just Sakusa Kiyoomi. That’s all. That is all he'll ever be.Even if he never falls in love, the sun and moon still rise in the east and set in the west. People still pass by him on the street without a second thought. He lives, and so does everyone else.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu & Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Kudos: 67





	‘cause i just need a quiet place where i can scream i love you

**Author's Note:**

> hate this so bad but i worked hard on it ill give her a shot and if it flops? spring cleaning we delete it and its just smth i stayed up a little too late for. i feel like it's missing so much but i have no clue how to include it all id rewrite this but i will not have the chance to write for a write for a while good riddance
> 
> edit i shouldve read this the morning after bc when i wasnt half asleep my third eye opened and i fixed it its bearable now. i really hope you enjoy!<3

Love has always been an enigma to Sakusa.

What is love? Can you hold it? Is it malleable? Does it bend? Is it plush in your hands? Is it easily destroyed? Is it heavy? Is it light? What exactly is it and what is it made of?

It’s so much to understand, to understand yourself and your feelings. It’s too much to understand yourself, much less, someone else.

No matter if you fall in love or don’t, the sun and moon still rise in the east and set in the east, bringing clouds, and sunsets, and constellations. They bring darkness and light, day and night come and go.

Day and night, complete opposites of one another. Constantly chasing each other, destined on either side of the world, they are never meant to meet. Sometimes opposites attract, sure, but not the sun and moon. They were never meant to be one.

But, to follow and rely on something that much, is that not love? The moon trusts the sun to come up and provide warmth to all living things, and the sun trusts the moon to bring rest and tranquility to all living things.

Well Sakusas not the moon, nor is he the sun, he’s not even as significant as a single star in the sky. He’s just Sakusa Kiyoomi. That’s all.

Even if he never falls in love, the sun and moon still rise in the east and set in the west. People still pass by him on the street without a second thought. He lives, and so does everyone else.

Sakusa decides he’s not worth the chase, not worth a love like the sun and moon.

He meets people, a few who catch his eye, a few he ultimately decides wouldn’t waste the trouble of getting to know every hill and valley of Sakusa Kiyoomi.

Love is a lot. Too much. A handful for thirteen pairs of hands and even then, they couldn’t carry it all. A burden so heavy for every few back it falls on, it’s let go.

Sakusa always knew Miya Atsumu.

Well, he knew Osamu, but they’re a two for one, and Atsumu is a pest who constantly craves attention. Every conversation he had with Osamu, the blonde would butt in somehow, quickly putting the conversation to an end.

The existence of Atsumu floats somewhere within the realm of his mind the same way a bruise you got years ago does, just a reminder of it every so often.

When they meet again, after highschool, Atsumu greets him with the same brevity that he always did. He yells his name from the other end of the gymnasium, full of too much excitement and vigor for Sakusa, it draws too much attention to him and he recoils from it until Atsumu does it to everyone else.

He thinks nothing of the interaction once he arrives home.

Life still continues, the sun and the moon continue to chase each other while Sakusa and Atsumu start to exist in the same space. Miyas existence floats to the front of his mind, now the same way the taste of a coffee that was so bitter it makes your face scrunch up in discomfort at the sudden attack on your taste buds. He can’t tell if it’s a good or bad thing.

Sakusas eyes tend to follow Miya, not for any other reason than to watch his next move, to calculate what’s next so he too knows what course of action he should follow.

His eyes follow Miya not because his presence on the court is insanely demanding, or that you’re naturally drawn to it, or that his technique is so polished and clean that it’s admirable. Absolutely not.

Miya’s good on the court, but an absolute pain in the ass otherwise.

When they go to bars, he forgets that his body has a limit and drinks the weight of a sumo wrestler.

Sadly, Sakusa is saddled with the responsibility of taking care of a drunk Miya Atsumu, which is worse than any punishment on this godforsaken earth.

Between suggestive comments, small bouts of crying, and the clinging to Sakusas side like if he lets go he dies, by some miracle, they make it to Miya's apartment. He is usually put on the couch to atone for what he just made Sakusa go through for the nth time.

He is once again dragging Miya home, it’s particularly silent this time, Sakusa does not complain, but it’s odd.

The air is humid, and walking alongside a body as warm as Atsumus is pure hell. Everything, his hands, his torso, the juncture between his shoulder and neck radiates so much heat.

“Get off of me, Miya. You’re hot and you stink.”

“Hot? You’re so bold now.” He quirks an eyebrow to the other.

“You know what I meant.”

By some grace of divine intervention, they once again make it to his apartment. Sakusa grabs Miya's keys from his own pocket (he’s learned to ask for them at the start of the night to avoid the game Miya likes to play which he calls “Pat me down until you find them or pat me in a fun place instead. Either way you will need the keys though.”)

They make it to the couch, Miya falls down and Sakusa adjusts him so he can at least sleep.

He says nothing as he turns around, an ordeal he is all too familiar with.

There’s a hand on his sleeve, a tight grip that doesn’t let him turn away.

Sakusa turns his head, and Miya is looking up at him.

The moon shines through his backdoor, shining on the both of them. Although the shadows contort the blonde's face, his skin is luminous as a small smile sits on his lips.

“Yer pretty, Kiyoomi.”

He’s heard the line and many others so many times, it’s different in such a confined space. It burns his cheeks red as even if the quiet lingers after, he can still hear it the way his name rolled off of his tongue.

“I’m going home. Let me go Miya.”

”Don’t go.” His voice is brisk and Sakusa stares with wide eyes.

”I...” He’s rendered speechless, his thoughts are a mess he can’t even begin to unravel as he stares at Miyas pleading eyes.

It’s too much.

Miya holds on for a few more moments, his grasp gets tighter as if it were an act of desperation before he lets go, his arm falling to the ground.

“Yer not as good at observations as you think you are.”

The comment is odd, Miya’s never said something like that before, it sends a feeling down his spine that is impossible to decipher.

“What do you mean?”

He sighs, crossing his arms and closing his eyes. The shadow of his eyelashes rest on his cheeks as he drifts to sleep.

“You’ll figure it out eventually. Someday…”

Sakusa hates this feeling.

The room is filled with too many emotions, cryptic messages and an air that stops him from breathing. His hands grow cold, he watches Miya for a few moments, wracking his brain for any possible meaning.

He simply leaves. Miya's drunk babbling means nothing, and it especially means nothing to him

A rule of thumb: Take what Miya Atsumu says with a grain of salt to stay sane.

The sun comes up once more, daylight breaks and Sakusa is already on his way to the gymnasium.

Sadly, there is one other person who also likes to be there. If only it were someone as peaceful a Meian or Shinon.

“Good mornin’ Sakusa!” His voice is still booming, even at six in the morning. Even after a night of drinking, his energy never falters.

Sakusa simply nods, acknowledging him the way he always did.

But, it feels different.

There is nothing in their routine or mannerisms, not even in the way Miya rambles as Sakusa tries so hard to drown him out.

It’s something Sakusa can’t put his finger on, and it’s a nasty itch.

A mosquito bite of an itch, but one a cream couldn’t heal. He has to figure it out, or else this weird feeling will stick with him until the day he dies, and carrying an itch to the grave is not ideal.

The day of thinking turns into a week, a week into almost a week and a half and Sakusa swears it will drive him insane. He is on the brink of losing it and if an idea doesn’t pop into his head, he will lose it.

He continues to practice as the sun and moon rise and set, thinking about it over meals and cups of coffee. Mulling over it as he so desperately tries to pinpoint what the issue is.

“You know, you can call me Atsumu.” He says randomly during a lunch break, a casual conversation where Sakusa referred to him as Miya as he always did.

Sakusa simply stares. The name is foreign, it’s strange, it’s too personal, too intimate and only seems to add on more to Sakusas turmoil.

“Don’t look at me like I’m crazy. I mean, we’re close, aren’t we? We hang out and talk on the phone a lot, that makes us close in my book.”

_We’re close, aren’t we?_

The sentence lingers, something so significant and yet, so insignificant at the same times.

Sakusa feels like he may now just lay down and die. This is a lot to process.

“I mean, I guess.”

Miya smiles, but it’s not mischievous or teasing, it’s genuine. A genuine grin as he looks down at the food in his lap.

“So, say it.”

Oh god.

Oh shit. Oh fuck. Damn it all to hell.

When looking at the big picture, this is nothing. It’s really nothing, it’s just a name.

And yet, it feels like more than a name.

It’s the name of Miya, the man who constantly provokes him and and yet somehow, is the person he is closest with.

Miya, who is somehow so easy to read but simultaneously insanely hard to figure out. His intentions always seem to be one thing, but it’s just fog to cloud his true intentions.

Miya, perhaps an enigma even more curious than love.

When did he even figure out this much about Miya?

“Are ya gonna keep me waiting, Sakusa?” The corners of his lips curl up and the genuine smile is gone. He’s back to making his life hell on purpose, he does it as if his life depends on it.

“Uh…” He’s unsure of what to say.

“It won’t rip yer face off. It’s jus’ a name, right?”

He keeps saying right as if Sakusa is meant to know all of these things. Well, he doesn’t.

Really, what is he even supposed to know?

He’s hesitant, but Miya's expectant eyes are even louder than a crowd during a match.

It’s not a choice anymore. He has to say it.

“Atsumu.” He says.

Atsumus eyes go wide in surprise, as if he were taken aback.

Sakusa can feel heat start to rush through his body, embarrassment washing over him as his thoughts run rampant.

_Did I say it wrong? Does he think I’m stupid? Did he not like the way I said it? Did I just defile his name? What if he has to change it since he hated it so bad? What if-_

“I really didn’t think you’d do it. But, I really like the way you say it.”

The air seems still in that moment, and Sakusa has a mortifying realization.

_I am the problem I have been trying to figure out for two weeks._

His world splits into pieces and Sakusa now floats through the universe, every regret with him.

If there was any realization that could ruin a person's life, this was definitely it.

Sakusa goes home that day and screams into his pillow in a way he’s never done before.

He feels like a child.

It’s gross.

Somehow, saying his name made his problem even worse than just the mere idea of it.

At this point, if the sun never came up again, he’d be grateful.

He’d be grateful that he’d never have to see Atsumu, putting him so far into inner turmoil he can see his middle school self again.

Although the old itch is sated, a new one appears.

The Itch of Miya Atsumu.

Classified: Fatal if not Treated.

Ah, what’s the word he’s looking for? Cómo se dice… royally fucked? Completely screwed?

Whatever it is, Sakusa Kiyoomi at this point may be no longer.

He might as well order his headstone.

Sakusa Kiyoomi. 1996 - 2019. Cause of death: Miya Atsumus mere existence.

You really start to learn a lot about a person when you figured out you liked them one day after saying their name and almost writing your will after.

After he sets, Atsumus eyes quickly go to Sakusa, which wouldn’t be an issue if all of the sets went to him. But, even when they go to Bokuto or Barnes, his glance is quick before he’s back in the game.

Atsumu just talks. It’s not like it’s something Sakusa didn’t notice before, but now it’s never-ending. 

How does someone even have so many thoughts? Everything that comes to mind, he says, it’s amazing and also terrifying.

On the phone, he doesn’t hang up until he falls asleep. Sakusa hates phone calls, but they’re a lot more bearable when he’s on the phone with Atsumu.

He sings a lot, little jingles and made up melody’s when he does little things. For example, putting his shoes on, or plating a dinner they made, or dressing for practice.

It’s a curse.

Loving Miya Atsumu is 100% a curse that is bestowed upon Sakusa. But, if given the chance, he wouldn’t hand it off to someone else.

The feeling is unfamiliar, it fills you with warmth as you walk through the doors of his apartment, it makes you excited to go to practice, it’s the gross shit he’s seen in movies and Sakusa can’t believe what’s become of him.

Sakusa stands in front of the sink in the locker room, washing his hands under hot water as he prepares for practice.

He hears footsteps from behind him, he looks in the mirror to see who, and but of course.

“Kiyoomi, you comin’ out or what?” He says impatiently.

There is no way in hell he could ever get used to hearing his name fall from Atsumus mouth. It’s cardiac arrest inducing.

“Sorry, just a little late, I’ll be done in a minute.” He scrubs, following his usual regimen.

“You wash yer hands before practice?”

“I always do, you’re just always the first one out.”

“Hm.” Atsumu stares at his hands, in some kind of thought process.

He comes up next to Sakusa, the alarms going off in his head because of the proximity, or lack of thereof.

Atsumu looks at the green bar of soap that belongs to Sakusa, but he ultimately decides to press into the soap dispenser.

He does a quick wash and rinse, not washing his hands for more than ten seconds.

Sakusa looks at him with a questioning stare, Atsumu looks at him as if he’s the weird one.

“God, you don’t even know how to wash your own hands?” He acts without thinking.

Maybe in this moment is when the sun and moon seem to meet, an interaction meaning so much yet so little, a mere glance as they pass one another.

Sakusa grabs his bar of soap, grabbing Atsumus hands as he lathers it up in the soap, getting some on his own hand in the process.

He starts to wash Atsumus hands, rubbing his own hands between his as he holds them, passing his fingers through the spaces between his fingers as he gently scrubs his palms.

He can feel the callouses, trying to not focus on them but the urge to care for those parts more overtakes him.

Atsumus hands are big, but they’re not threatening. They’re kind, letting Sakusas fingers go wherever they desire as he runs over and scrubs every part of his hand.

Atsumus hands could hold love in them, and never put a crack in it.

“They usually say to wash for fifteen seconds, but I like to do it for thirty.”

He goes over his hands one last time before running them under the water, water running over the expanse of their hands.

Sakusa turns off the water and grabs two paper towels, he carefully pat dries his hands.

When Sakusa looks up at Atsumus face, it’s unreadable.

And then, it dawns on him.

“Oh, uh… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I just didn’t want you to have a lot of bacteria on your hands. Washing with soap and water for fifteen seconds kills almost all of them, it’s better for you.”

“You show yer feelings in weird ways Kiyoomi.” He says softly.

Sakusa can feel a thumb rubbing against his wrist, it’s tender and loving in a way he’s never experienced before.

He looks down to find that he’s still holding on to Atsumus hands.

Sakusa tries to pull back, but Atsumu keeps him there, just how he did before.

There’s no moonlight, and by no means is their locker room a confined space, but it’s enough. Weirdly, it’s enough for Sakusa.

The lighting isn’t flattering, but he knows all too well that Atsumu doesn’t need it. He doesn’t need the shadow of dusk or the accompaniment of the moonlight.

Atsumu leans forward, a kiss right into Sakusas hair.

“Yer really not as observant as you think you are, Omi-omi.” He whispers into his hair.

No. He’s not. In fact, he looks out for everything except the obvious. He finds every other little detail except for the one that makes up what he’s been looking for.

His hand finds himself on the back of his neck, carding through coarse blonde hair. It’s a gentle touch, but it seems to be enough.

“Maybe a little more confident than I imagined… impressive.” He teases.

Sakusa holds and is held back, it’s bliss.

The sun and the moon meet every so often, but it will always be just a pass-by. A simple acknowledgement. They sacrifice their love for that of others, and maybe that is true love.

Who is he to say what it is and isn’t?

Sakusa holds love in the palm of his hand, fragile and made of something no one can ever figure out. He holds love when he holds Atsumu.

They dance through it, tripping over feet and doing their dam best to waltz through the enigma, it’s theirs and nobody is to say much about it.

The sun and the moon rise in the east and settle in the west. Sakusa Kiyoomi is still just Sakusa Kiyoomi, with now a burden worth carrying.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading, i feel like this kiyoomi is a little different bc as someone who also has mysophobia, i do want to stress that we’re not incapable of love, its just a lot slower and takes more time. we’re not robots who just only think about bacterias, we do have personalities and shit. even so, there is absolutely no wrong interpretation or characterization of him, but its just one of my many takes on him! thank you again and i hope you enjoyed!!!


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